The Findings of a Curious Mage
by SEESWildCard
Summary: Amell had no interest in politics or glory unless they could further his research. When the Blight comes, where others see a chance of glory and others a pit of despair, Amell only sees two things. Questions and opportunities. Rating may go up.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not make any profit from this story.**

* * *

How did it turn out like this.

He was happy. He had passed his Harrowing. His life was suppose to be better afterward now that the threat of being made Tranquil was gone.

Less Templars breathing down his neck, being able to get away from the more devout Senior Enchanters as he was now allowed to spend longer periods alone and unsupervised, and freedom to continue his research. He cared little for the internal politics of the Circle, or anything outside it really. And yet, for reason he couldn't fathom, he had been roped by his friend Jowan into trying to help him run away from the Circle.

Why he had agreed to this to begin with, he would never know.

He had told the First Enchanter as soon as Jowan was out of sight expecting him to deal with this immediately. Instead Irving sends him to help Jowan as part of his own little scheme to shame the Knight-Commander and the Chantry with the fact that one of their Lay Sisters had consorted with a would-be apostate.

It had made sense at first. It would hopefully dampen the inevitable Templar crackdown as soon as it got out that a mage had tried to run-away again, one that's a suspected maleficar no less.

Of course in hindsight it really wouldn't have made a difference. The Chantry had always turned a blind-eye to any heresy by their own people so long as it progressed their own goals. They would shove Lily into some obscure prison or just send her back to the Chantry for retraining, place attention to the fact that the Circle had unknowingly sheltered a Blood Mage, and no one would care about some disgraced lay sister.

He had agreed to Irving's plan because he saw it as an opportunity to examine the vaults. Even though he was an Enchanter now, he was still denied access to it. What manner of magic would he find there?

The kind that actively tried to kill him apparently. The animated statues weren't that difficult to handle. A nice, solid rock spell breaks them apart easily. And blast of arcane energy would destabilize the spell holding them together just as easily. Why this things were expected to be a good defense, especially for something as valuable as the phylacteries of hundreds of mages, he would never know.

Things had gone right. Jowan had destroyed his phylactery, Irving and Gregor were waiting for them right outside the door ready to apprehend Jowan and Lily, and he would be allowed to go back to his research.

Only Amell had far overestimated the skill of the Templar, or rather underestimated how utterly incompetent they were.

Who goes up against a mage, one suspected to be a blood mage and confirmed to be rebellious, and still be caught completely unaware when said mage pulls out a knife and cuts his palm? Idiots.

So now here he was standing between two old men playing the blaming game.

"Excuse me, but can I go to my quarters now?" Mirion Amell, recently Harrowed Mage, soon to be scapegoat asked two bickering old men.

Perhaps he should have just tried to walk away quietly. Gregor turned and instantly redirected his grievances at the young man. Amell immediately regretted his decision as he blocked out the stream of reprimands that flew out of the Knight-Commander's mouth before Irving decided to cut him off. Eventually the two had compromised. While Lily consorting with a Blood Mage wasn't good enough to shame the Templars into not cracking down on all the mages of the Circle, the fact that the Knight-Commander along with several of his lieutenants got knocked on their ass by an apprentice mage was more than enough. It was balanced out by the fact that the First Enchanter was also knocked on his ass.

So the compromise went "We won't harass you or your mages and expose the fact that you got knocked down by an apprentice, if you agree not to leak the fact that we also got our asses handed to us by said apprentice." Of course the actually wording of the agreement was more eloquent, but that was what it boiled down too.

As for young Amell, he was let of with only a slight warning and a few months probation to make sure he wasn't a maleficar. Those months went by fast enough.

Near the end of his probation Amell's friend, Varsuuvius Surana, and elven mage who was the only one who could match his devotion to research had finally been allowed to take the Harrowing and passed easily enough, having been confronted by demon of Sloth that wasn't able to overcome his desire for knowledge. It was fortunate Surana hadn't gone up against a demon of Desire or Pride. They would have picked apart the elf far more effectively than a being of Sloth.

Of course those few months hadn't been all good. Darkspawn had risen out of the Deep Roads and began raiding small towns. King Cailan had decided to take the fight to the darkspawn, assembling his army and winning several skirmishes against the horde. And now he had called upon the lords of Fereldan and the Circle to join him in what he calls "the final glorious battle". And as luck would have it, the time of this battle just happened to coincide with the final week of Amell's probation.

And so he was to be sent out along with several others to join the army at Ostagar. "Fighting of such odds without succumbing to the temptation of demons for the sake of survival" would be a good final test they said. He had no complaints, as it was his chance to examine the almost mythical darkspawn. Their blood was said to be poisonous with the only possible cure being the Grey Warden's joining.

Amell wondered "How hard had they actually tried curing it?"

He was going to a battle and blood will be available in rivers. Varsuuvius was late to the news and had asked him to bring back some blood for the elf's own research. The payment that Surana offered was a journal containing a few spells that the elf had invented. Nothing truly awe-inspiring like the fabled Shapeshifting of the Witches of the Wild, but nothing to scoff at either. The spell labeled only "Disintegrate" looked very promising. The journal also carried some of Surana's theories on shapeshifting, from possible methods of transformation and the limits.

As Amell was packing his things for the trip to Ostagar, Irving decided to pay him a visit.

"Amell, may I have a word?" Asking was just a courtesy. Amell was expected to agree.

"Of course, First Enchanter. What did you want to speak about."

Irving respectfully refused as Amell offered him a seat before responding "I just wished to speak with you concerning the upcoming battle."

"What is there to speak about? It is to be my final test if I've heard you and the Knight-Commander correctly, is it not?" The fact that legally, the Harrowing was supposed to be a Circle Mages final test went unsaid, but not unheard by both.

"Yes, that is true. I just wished to ask you of your plans for the battle itself."

"Follow orders. I have nothing to gain from doing otherwise." That was completely true. He had nothing to gain by being insubordinate. And Irving believed him. The old man always had a soft spot for his star pupil.

"Very well. I will leave you to your preparations. Promise you will stay safe."

"With all due respect, First Enchanter, I'm not sure if that's one I can keep." Amell's tone of voice was calm. It gave away no emotions.

The First Enchanter gave him a weary smile and a nod before walking out. Amells returned to his preparations.

Staff? Check.

Runes? Check.

Lyrium? Check.

Spare clothes? Check.

Journal? Check.

Alchemy Kit? Check.

Cat? Che-

Wait. He didn't own a cat.

Amell stared at the large orange tabby he held in his hands. The cat's large green eyes stared back.

He set the cat back down and let him scamper of in search of rats or something as he went back to checking his pack.

"Everything seems to be in order." Sling his pack on his back he left to join the rest of the mages going to Ostagar. "I really hope I didn't forget anything important."

* * *

Surana walked into the Living Area of Harrowed Mages. With a good portion of the Senior Enchanters gone, there were fewer unharrowed mages practicing with the Senior Enchanters, meaning it was a lot quieter. It was a good place for a nap and an undisturbed reading marathon. Surana preferred the latter. As Surana sat down a familiar object entered the elf's vision.

"Hmm. Didn't expect Amell to forget this."

* * *

The journey to Ostagar was so far uneventful. The route they had taken was deemed safe at it lived up to that assessment. Not even a pack of wolves. Amell had hoped to find some signs of the Blight on the way to Ostagar and is now very disappointed.

At least until they had stumbled across a Dwarf cleaning blood that was to dark to be anything other than Darkspawn blood of him, clad only in common clothes and wielding a bastard sword. Around the dwarf were several darkspawn corpses, with the beginning of a really long line of them visible near the edge of the forest.

Durkon Aeducan, he had introduced himself. "Where are you lot going?"

They had answered honestly. The dwarf had further inquired as to whether or not the Grey Wardens would be present. When he received confirmation, he had respectfully requested to be taken along with them. They had no reason to refuse.

And when no one was looking, Amell knelt beside a dead genlock and collected a few vials of blood before moving on to a Hurlock and doing the same.

The dwarf had asked if they could be bothered to mend his injuries. Amell volunteered. It was a good chance to possibly observe the effects of the blight on an infected individual. He could see the effect of it on the dwarf. His skin was noticeably paling, his veins darkening. Healing magic seems to have slowed the process.

The Chantry claimed that the source of the darkspawn was the Maker casting down and cursing Tevinter Magisters who had thought themselves capable of matching god. Curse, like magic.

If the Blight's effects had originated from magic, it might be possible to purge it's effects as one would a curse or an enchantment. Would it possible to resist it's effects with the aid of spell as some schools of magic had done? As the templars can?

Templars... They claimed that their ability to resist magic came from regularly imbibing Lyrium, although some say that the Lyrium was a way of controlling the Templars by getting them addicted to the substance, that it doesn't play as large a role in their powers as the Chantry claims. Still, Amell couldn't deny that Lyrium had some affect on magic. Perhaps Lyrium could help stall blight sickness? He would test that later, but not on the dwarf.

While Amell was confident in his combat skills, he had no intention of antagonizing and fighting someone capable of leaving behind that many bodies while most likely slowly dying from a sickness gotten from fighting darkspawn. Especially not if that someone was a member of a species that had some resistance to magic and was likely capable of infecting him with the same sickness. He didn't want to study the effects _that_ up close.

It was said that the only cure to the Taint was becoming a Grey Warden. What was their solution? A closely guarded blood ritual that provided immunity? Some obscure spell researched all the way back to the First Blight? Acquired resistence and eventual immunity from carefully regulated altered dosages of Darkspawn blood?

The blood. That was how the Taint was carried from person to person. Cures to several kinds of poison were discovered by researching to poisons themselves. The key to a cure would lie in the blood.

Amell wrote all of this and more in his journal before stuffing it in his bag. The Grey Warden's immunity and cure could also provide answers. He would see them soon enough. Hopefully at least one of them would fall in the battle and he could collect their blood.

He looked at the sleeping dwarf. Durkon obviously plans on becoming a Grey Warden to save himself. Whether or not he succeeds isn't set in stone. Still, the blood of someone, before and after becoming a Grey Warden, would prove useful in his research. It was unfortunate that he did not manage to obtain some of Durkon's blood from before he was tainted, but there was nothing to be done about that. As soon as they had finished packing up their camp they would continue. Ostagar was only a day and night away. Amell would try his best to keep Durkon alive until then.


	2. Chapter 2

The mages had arrived a head of schedule. A pack of ogres tends to inspire a decent boost to running speed.

The mages were granted a small space that easily accommodated the group while giving them enough space to set up large scale rituals. The few Tranquil they brought with them had wasted no time in setting up enchanting stations and offering their services to soldiers. Six of the mages had already began a ritual of unknown purposes, closely guarded by their templar wardens.

Mirion had escorted the ailing Durkon to the Wardens, having been given directions by a Warden Recruit who now walked alongside them. After handing Durkon over to the Warden-Commander Duncan, Mirion returned to his tent and decided to study the spells in Varsuuvius's journal. Disintegrate, while destructive and would require a good amount of mana, was fairly straight-forward and easy to learn. This Anti-Magic Field on the other hand...

It operated like the Dispell spell they were taught, but instead of a single, purging wave, it was a sustained effect. And it didn't dispel so much as it suppressed the effects of magic. It and anything within it would be impervious to magical effects but the downside was that it also kept any mages inside it from casting spells. And as it was sustained by its caster's power it was centered around him/her, meaning that as long as the field was up the caster would have no offensive capabilities unless they were skilled to some degree at close combat.

The spell worked by thickening the Veil around the caster. The mage's mana would form a second layer that would meld seamlessly with the Veil. It was a costly spell to maintain, and unless one was fight a fellow mage it didn't have much offensive use. Mirion would study it at a later time.

He brought the vials of blood out of his bag along with a small pouch of lyrium, grinded elfroots, and concentrator agents.

Mirion took a vial of genlock blood, and one of Durkon's. The preservation spells held. Aside from the genlock's blood being a darker shade, the two were indistinguishable in consistency, and scent. Now for the first tests.

Elfroot was a common ingredient in poultices and potions, well known for it's curative properties. Used to treat both wounds and toxins. Casting an appraisal spell to on both vials on blood, jotting down their properties in his journal, he poured an equal amount of elfroot into the vial. There no visible effect. Casting another appraisal spell, Mirion found that the changes were minimal. Labeling this experiment as Test A, he moved on to other experiments.

* * *

By the time Mirion had finished with his tests the sun had set, and he was down to six vials of each type of blood. Walking out of his tent he took in his surroundings. The mages still were finished with their casting, and the Tranquil had closed shop. He walked to the Warden's part of the camp to see if Durkon had returned. After handing him to Duncan the Warden-Commander had sent the recruits out to the woods to retrieve darkspawn blood and some treaties from the Ruins.

They had not. He had instead decided to try and strike up a conversation with the Warden-Commander. The commander was agreeable enough. He had only answered his question on the Wardens' immunity to the Taint with "That is something I am not allowed to discuss with people outside our Order."

As the topic moved on to viable tactics against the Darkspawn, the recruits had returned. Mirion took note of them.

There was Durkon, the blight having taken its toll on him. The dwarf was being supported by the Warden Recruit he had met earlier, a human by the name of Daveth. Two other recruits, both male humans were noticeably more built than Daveth, carrying heavier arms and wearing heavier armors to match. Trailing behind the two was a female elf wearing light armor fit for a scout. Judging from the the tattoos she was a Dalish, and judging from the darkening veins she was also Tainted. Walking alongside her was another female, human. Wearing armor on the same weight class as the two human warriors, and with a massive sword strapped to her back, she was a bit intimidating.

Saying farewell to Duncan Mirion walked out of their sight. And as soon as he was he decided to make use of one of the spells he and Varsuuvius had co-researched. Looking around to make sure no one could see, he cast it. Now, time to make sure it worked.

He looked around, and stalked the first unarmed person he found and when he got close, clubbed him over the head with his staff. The woman was understandably annoyed and turned to look for who had hit her. Mirion just stood right in front of her.

"I guess it works."

He walked back to the Warden's area, looked for a good place to view them safely without making much noise. Another spell took care of his footsteps. Leaning against the remains of a large pillar, he spied on the Wardens.

Interesting. The cure was physical, some kind of formula. Darkspawn blood was used, but he saw that Duncan had taken some vials from his belt and added their contents to the Chalice. What was inside? It appeared to be blood of some kind. Was it altered Darkspawn blood? The shade seemed to be right. Was it some kind of secret Warden Formula? If it was, they definitely succeeded in making sure it wasn't identifiable by sight.

And did Davos just die? Apparently the cure has as just a good a chance of killing initiates as it did in providing immunity. Perhaps he could get to Daveth's corpse later. Whatever was in the chalice may still linger in his blood.

And now Duncan had just slit Jory's throat. Apparently the Warden's liked to make sure that their recruits stayed as recruits. Mirion decided that he could stand to be a little farther away from them now. Wardens's take their oaths of secrecy quite seriously as he had just observed.

Durkon and the two women were fine. The other man was already initiated after the two of them it seemed. He should get a sample of Durkon's blood soon.

The horns were sounded. It was time he return to his group. The battle was close to starting and if he were to be late they would ask questions, and Mirion had not prepared any convincing lies for today.

He had arrived at the mage's section early enough. They were briefed on their positions and what they were allowed to do. Mirion along with other, less experienced mages would be stationed near the rear. Wounded soldiers on the front would be passed to the back, patched up by the mages and redeployed.

It was simple enough. Not a lot of trouble and little chance of actual combat.

* * *

Of course the geniuses planning this battle failed to take into account that Darkspawn are subterranean creatures, and thus, had a knack at digging tunnels that lead to the army's rear.

Mirion threw fireballs from behind a line of soldiers. It was fortunate the new Wardens were stationed nearby. Their immunity and combat prowess kept the Darkspawn from completely overwhelming what defenses the surprised rear guard could mount. Eventually the wardens had split into two groups. Group one, consisting of the elf and Durkon would lead whatever soldiers were left and hold the hordes of darkspawn the came from the tunnel that had appeared beneath the tower. Group two, consisting of the two humans would take a small group of soldiers and fight their way up the tower to light the beacon.

Mirion went with group two.

The tower was high, and the few soldiers that had survived all the way to the top were audibly panting. Of course to Mirion, who had spent his life in a tower and had to walk just as many flights of stairs daily had handled the trip much better.

The Darkspawn were ferocious bastards. Mirion had already lost count of how many of the blighters he had killed, but he was confident that he had the highest kill count. While most of what they fought were hurlocks and genlocks, there was the occasional ogre that would burst out of one of the rooms to tackle an unfortunate soldier.

Thanks to their large mass, they were good practice targets for the Disintegrate spell Varsuuvius had created. Focusing his magic to the tip of his staff, Mirion fired a thin, green beam that hit the ogre right in it's bare chest. The spell worked fast, the ogre glowing a bright orange before breaking apart into embers. It had worked faster on the much smaller hurlocks who were destroyed so fast that the beam had enough time left in the world to hit the one behind it. Mirion had received a few incredulous looks upon killing an ogre with one spell, but one fireball and a lot of darkspawn screaming in pain quickly reminded them that they still had more to fight.

At the top they had found a pair of ogres, much more heavily armored than usual, a hurlock that was also larger than usual, wearing thicker armor that seemed to designate some kind of rank among the Darkspawn, and an Emissary.

The fight took much longer than any of their other encounters with darkspawn till then. The emissary wasted no time and quickly sent a fireball, one larger than those that Mirion had cast earlier. The two Wardens had managed to move to dodge in time, but some soldiers weren't so lucky. Three of them fell where they stood, Mirion managing to raise a barrier fast enough to save the remaining six. The hurlock was already on the male, showing prowess with a sword that was unseen so far in darkspawn.

The female warden had tried to go to her fellow warden's aid, but was forced to contend with one of the armored ogres first. The other had attacked the soldiers.

"Mage! We could us that green spell of yours!" The male warden called out while locking blades with a hurlock.

He didn't seem to notice that Mirion had engaged in a magical duel with the emissary that kept him from focusing long enough to cast Disintegrate. "Warden, take care of the emissary!"

The female deftly dodged a charge by the ogre and advanced toward the emissary who took notice of her immediately and sent a volley of arcane missiles. Most hit, but the silver armor the woman wore was nothing to scoff at, and neither was her will. The ogre turned to attack her again only to be met by several, thick ice spikes jutting from the ground surrounding it. The ice wasn't strong enough to punch through the thing's armor, but it would the beast long enough.

The ogre attacked the soldiers, who were now reduced to four was struck by a familiar green beam. "Kill the emissary!" The soldiers didn't bother to think about the order and drew their bows and trained them at the emissary, who was currently using magic to deflect the female warden's sword strikes. Two arrows struck it's back, followed by another two. The warden chopped the darkspawn mage's head off.

Meanwhile, the bound ogre had freed itself and tried to attack the woman again only to be met by another green beam and destroyed. The hurlock fighting the male warden suddenly found its right leg frozen, it's shield arm chopped off, and a sword thrust through his back.

The two wardens went to work lighting the beacon.

Several darkspawn burst through the door, firing arrows that quickly felled the two wardens. The darkspawn seemed to be prioritizing the Wardens. Mirion didn't take note of it earlier but recalling the previous fights it did seem that way. The four soldiers soldiers fired into the entering darkspawn as fast as they could, Mirion casting a fireball through the open door. The fire would hold them for a while. Mirion summoned a thick, spiked wall of ice for good measure.

"Watch the barrier. Barricade it with what you can find. I must tend to these two." Unless they had another ogre or an emissary, they wouldn't breach that wall for a while. Now, time for him to finally collect some Warden blood samples.


End file.
